Leaving Him
by musicalgirl4474
Summary: Jaron's father King Eckbert left Jaron at the church with nothing but a lump of fool's gold, some silver coins, and the name of a lady who runs an orphanage. Of course it was a horrible thing to do. These are King Eckbert's thoughts. One-shot, possibly more if people like it. Third genre is FAMILY, obviously. The characters/ dialogue from the book belong to Jennifer A. Nielsen.
1. A Rebellious Spirit

**A/N: Love this series, and Just wanted to write this idea, even though I have mid-terms tomorrow that I ought to be studying for...**

He couldn't believe it. It was his boy, his son Jaron, right in front of him, looking sulkily out from under bangs that were definitely too long for a prince. The fact that Jaron was alive was… amazing. That the pirates didn't kill him… for the first time the king found himself blessing the rebellious spirit that he had cursed many a night before. He had so often wished the boy could be more like Darius… but now not for anything. Because his rebelliousness had kept him alive.

As Eckbert looked in joy upon is son, a thought suddenly clouded his mind. A thought and a way to keep Carthya safe if his fears were confirmed. Of course it was a heavy burden for a boy young as he to bear… but it had to be done.

They sat in the pews to talk, and though Eckbert's attempts at conversation were rather one-sided, he could sense his son was listening intently as he told of his foolish dreams of being a musician. Then he kind of blew it by saying that he didn't think the title of Prince suited Jaron. The King of Carthya winced inwardly as soon as the words left his mouth. What a stupid thing to say. The boy simply shrugged.

Trying to soften the blow of what was to come, he asked his son about life as a commoner, and hinted of hard times ahead. Then Jaron said "I want to come home."

That simple sentence, those five words, almost made the king's composure break, but he kept his crumbling façade together. He could not let his son know how hard it was for him to do this. He was king for Heaven's sake. In as solemn a voice he could, he said "You cannot come back."

If King Eckbert had expected his son to look hurt or sad, be was sorely disappointed; because Jaron set his jaw forward, as if fighting to keep his anger in-check. "This is my punishment for running away? To be disowned?"

"You're not disowned and it's not a punishment. It's what your country demands of you now." He almost winced at the words he was speaking to a boy who had barely escaped death not too long before. But Jaron just rolled his eyes.

"I'm to become a commoner, then? Shall I call you King Eckbert, or forget your name entirely?"

This hurt the King, but he struggled not to show it. He was probably hurting his son a lot more right now. "You are always my son," he said. "But the situation with the pirate has changed everything. Everyone believes you are dead, and I cannot allow that belief to change."

There was silence for several seconds, the only sound the wind outside. Finally Jaron spoke. "If I came back, would you declare war on Avenia for sinking that ship?"

Eckbert was happy his son understood, however much or little he did. He sighed heavily as he outlined the fact that yes, indeed he would have too, since Jaron could prove that it was indeed Avenian Pirates.

"If I remain missing… would you have to declare war?"

"If you remain missing, I can tell my people that I will not declare war until there is proof of your death."

"Then we both know what has to happen," the boy said very matter-of-factly, as if he'd expected this. The King guessed he very well might have. He was smarter than he let on. Then he asked the question that he himself had only half-answered. "What about Darius and Mother?"

Eckbert hesitated. "Darius… misses you. But he knows there are sacrifices we make for the good of Carthya. Your mother doesn't know you're been found. Obviously, she would want you to come home to her, but she doesn't see the enemies that surround us, not like I do."

"We've always had enemies at our borders." That surprised the king a little; that his rambunctious son had paid enough attention to his lectures to pick that up, when the tutors seemed to, in his experience, skate over that particular topic.

"But not all at the same time. Since you're been missing, they have backed off our borders, Royal courtesy in out rime of mourning for you, But the news is worse." And… here came the dangerous speculation and fear. The one Jaron would have to guard against. "I have enemies within Carthya, within my own castle. There are regents who look at my throne with greedy eyes. If I declare war in vengeance for you, they may not support me. They are the ones I fear."

"Do you think they're a danger to you?"

That was the million-gold piece question, wasn't it? He forced a smile at the fact that his son may be just a _little_ concerned about him, despite that the King would be leaving him, a ten-year-old boy, at the mercies of a cruel world. "Regents are always the greatest threat to a king. But I have Darius. If they get to me, the royal line must continue, of else Carthya will destroy itself in civil war. That's Darius's duty, Jaron." _And yours_… he added in his head. "Do you understand yours?"

"Mine is to remain missing. To never come back."

It killed Eckbert that his son knew so well what was expected of him, at such an early age to be cast out.

"Do you understand that you cannot reveal your true identity out here? You must change everything about yourself that you can." He went on, listing things Jaron could do to make him not… Prince Jaron. With the boy chipping in the bit about changing his dominant hand back to left, saying he preferred that anyways. That almost made the king grin, that he'd made his son practice with his right, saying that left was not proper, and here his left would save the boy's life. He recommended him to an orphanage not far from the Carthyan boarder, run by Mrs. Turbeldy.

Eckbert noticed his son's eyes glassing over, as if tears struggled to fall. Doing his best not to show that he knew how this hurt the boy, he handed him a handful of silver coins. "Come up with a story to get yourself into the orphanage, Say you stole these of whatever excuse you'd like, but they will buy your way through the front doors."

"I can fake an illness when the coins run our," the boy said. "Let her think she's got the truth from me."

Eckbert could feel the corners of his mouth tugged up in a smile. "You used that truck often enough on your tutors. What an irony that it may keep you alive now, There is always the possibility of Mrs. Turbeldy trying to sell you into servitude," The king tried to keep that possibility scarce in his mind," but I don't think she'd find any buyers."

"No, I'm too difficult for anyone to want me." Eckbert tried not to let that show either. His son really knew how to make him feel guilty.

"Exactly," Then he winced. What a horrible thing to say, even for a king. "I have a small gift for you, the best of anything I could offer. There is a letter instructing you on how to use it."

Jaron looked at the satchel, and then closed it again. _Please_… the king thought. _Please understand, you are the last hope, and you may need that if that becomes the case_.

The king stood, but Jaron placed his hand, so small and slender, so precious, and said quietly, "Stay a little longer."

As much as the King wanted to say yes, as much as he wanted to stay with his youngest son, he said "if I do, the priest will grow suspicious."

"This is real, then?" The whimper that barely made an appearance in the boy's voice almost broke the King's resolve. "When you leave, I'm no longer Prince Jaron; I'll be nothing but a commoner. An orphan."

"You will always be royal at heart," Eckbert said, letting the tenderness through, if only for a moment. "There may come a time when you must be Prince Jaron again for your country. You will know if it does come." He_ really_ hoped it didn't, but since when did the best of luck fall upon kings?

"Am I alone?"

The king shook his head, a crack opening in his resolve, enough to let the promise slip from his lips. "I will come in disguise on the last day of each month to the church nearest Mrs. Trubeldy's orphanage. If you ever need to see me, I'll be there." Quickly he left, before the crack could widen and let though any more promises.

**A/N: SO... originally just a one-shot, but I have ideas for other POVs, like Darius, and maybe some later POVs, like after a few years. ANyways, If you want me to write those, review that you want it, just so I know.**


	2. The Worst News

**A/N: So this one is the queen's point of view, it was a little difficult because she's never told of Jaron's being alive, but I did my best. This chapter is dedicated to ****_Empty Thoughts_**** for reviewing and asking for a Queen's PoV.**

It's not fair that a boy so young as Jaron be ripped from his mother, and not fair that a mother must lose her son to Avenian pirates. And even less fair for that mother to be lied to, told that her baby was dead when in reality he was living in an Avenian orphanage.

When she had been told that the ship had been destroyed by Avenian pirates, the queen had been devastated. She hardly spoke when she did not have to. Even to Eckbert, though she knew it was unfair, she blamed him. If he had not sent Jaron to that school… no, she couldn't start thinking like that. She mustn't blame her husband for something that he was just as broken-hearted over. Even if he didn't show it, the queen could tell. She remembered the day clearly.

_flash back_

The page entered the throne room at a run, all out of breath. The guards moved to stop him, but the page gasped "I have news for the king and queen concerning their son, Jaron!"

The king, queen and guards were used to this, but not the expression present with the words. The page looked not exasperated or worried, he looked sad, like he was trying to hold back tears.

"What is it?" The guard asked.

"The ship… it was attacked. Jaron… he's missing."

The queen knew the page now; this was Wint, a frequent friend of Jaron's. A little too frequent according to Eckbert. At Wint's words, the queen felt her breath stop. Missing? Jaron was missing?

"Who attacked it!?" The queen had never seen her husband looking so furious. And worried. After all the fight he had put into sending their son to that horrible boarding school, he was worried.

"There are rumors, Highness, that it was Avenian pirates."

Eckbert seemed to deflate, and she knew what he was thinking. Really, anything but that. They could not avenge their son without putting Carthya in considerable danger.

They told the page he could leave, and Wint veritably ran out of the room, which may have been just as well. If the boy had spilled tears, the queen doubted she could keep herself together. She turned to her husband.

"What are we going to tell Darius?" he asked, and the queen could detect the undertone of misery in his voice.

"The truth. Neither of us would want to be kept in the dark about something like this," she murmured, still staring after Wint. Eckbert nodded, and sent one of the guards to find their eldest, and now only, son.

. . .

When Darius walked in barely three minutes later followed by the guard, he had a confused expression on his face, which seemed to become even more pronounced as he saw his parents' faces.

"What has happened?" he asked without much preamble.

The queen could not bring herself to say it. She just shook her head, feeling tears stinging at her eyes.

"Jaron's ship was attacked," Eckbert said, squeezing her hand in reassurance. Darius' face went still. His confused expression melted away, leaving nothing behind; no expression. Just shock.

"Attacked…" he murmured. "And he's… gone?" The word seemed ripped from the boys throat, as though they caused him pain.

Eckbert shook his head. "Missing."

Darius' face suddenly hardened. The queen knew that expression. It was the expression her husband got when he had made a decision that no-one would be able to turn him from.

"I'm going to look for him," he announced.

She felt Eckbert stiffen next to her. "No! It's too dangerous," he said forcibly.

"How!? How is it too dangerous!? Who attacked him!?" The queen had never seen her son so agitated, borderline angry. He was always so calm and collected.

"We want to look for him, Darius. But there is nothing but rumors."

"What rumors!? Please, I want to look for him."

"Darius, the rumors are that it was Avenian pirates." Darius looked if possible, even angrier than before at his father's words.

"Avenia. I ought to have known."

"Son, there is no proof; still, Avenia is no place for the prince of Carthya. Not in a time such as this."

"I don't care! My brother is missing, presumed dead, but he may be alive in Avenia!"

"All I'm telling you," Said Eckbert, "is to be careful! Don't advertise your presence there. Word travels swiftly enough in Avenia."

_End flashback_

And so the queen's first son had gone in search of the second. She would wait for months for news, and all that would reach her was that her son was never found. Darius had come back after a few months, without his anger. He told his mother that he had not found Jaron, but barely a week after Darius' return to Carthya, Eckbert left. And every month after he made a journey to Avenia.

For quite a few years he did this, looking sad each time he returned, as though he had had hopes that had been dashed. The queen got to accept it, but she never really gave up hope that her little boy was alive.


	3. A Broken Brother

**A/N: So, this might be my last one, unless anyone has any requests. Merry Christmas! Enjoy everybody.**

No way... there had been no way. His father had tol him that the chances of finding his little brother had been small to the point of non-existance. But there was no mistaking the boy in front of him for any other. Jaron.

Doing his best to keep his emotions from showing on his face, Darius turned to the Holy man. "I would talk with this boy a moment," he said quietly. The man nodded, walking away to do whatever it was priests did when it wasn't a Holy day.

"Darius?" Jaron seemed to be a little wary of approaching him.

Wordlessly, Darius opened his arms, offering his little brother a hug. The young boy took the opportunity, throwing himself at Darius with such force that he almost fell over. Jaron was squeezzing him so hard he could barely breathe, but this was welcoming to the crown prince, who could feel his brother's heart beating wonderfully strong in his skinney chest. When Jaron let up a little, Daruius was surprised to see tear tracks glistening on his cheeks.

"Hey," he murmured, pressing his brother's face against his chest again. "Hey, it's alright, you're safe." Darius looked around, a little furtively, scanning the small room to make absolutely sure no one was there before murmering "I'm here, Jaron. I'm here, it's okay."

"No it's not," came a small voice. Darius looked down to see his younger brother, now composed, looking at him with his eyebrows drawn together. "They don't want me, I doubt anythhign will change that.

"Don't talk like that," the crown prince implored his brother. He couldn't believe Jaron was saying this. His brother had always been an optimist, always happy, laughing, pulling pranks and doing tricks. Always giving their mother a heart-attack when he climbed to the Castle roof at night... their mother.

"They think you're dead. Mother and father," he said quietly. "They're distraught."

Jaron snorted quietly. "Mother, maybe," he conceded. "But if I had to guess, the reason you're talking to me in private is because father is more worried about going to war against Avenia."

"So it's true," Darius said. "The rumors that you were attacked by Avenian pirates?"

Jaron nodded, disentangling his gangly form from his brother's embrace. "I can't go home yet, can I?"

Regret evident in his voice, Darius spoke. "No; father wants to see you before you come home."

"You're sure I'm coming home?"

"Mother wouldn't allow it any other way, and neither would I." Darius answered, and he gave Jaron another quick hug. "I should go before the priest starts to wonder why we are talking so long. Father will be here within the week. Wait for him."

Jaron nodded, and Darius left the room. Finding the priest, he thanked the man, told him that the boy was, unfortunately, not the lost prince of Carthya, and gave him a bag of silver coins. "Look after the boy as long as you can, a man will come to talk to him within the week in order to find some bread and board for the boy."

The man nodded, and thanked the prince. "No," Darius said, thinking of a boy sitting in a small room, still alive. "Thank you."

. . . . .

When his father came back from the meeting with his youngest son empty-handed, Darius was the first to confront him about it.

"Where is he?" he demanded his father as he rode his horse into the courtyard alone.

"Keep your voice down, son," the king said gruffly. "I will talk with you once I have eaten."

Darius narrowed his eyes as he watched his father move into the castle. The king moved slowly, and his son was suddenly struck by how old he looked. So old and feeble and almost broken. Then the moment was gone, and King Eckbert was back.

When the king was done eating, Darius once again asked after Jaron.

"He's not coming back."

"What!? Father what do you mean!?"

"He is to stay in Avenia until such time as the crown... needs him."

"So he is to be treated as a mercinary? Called upon only when needed? And when will we need him?"

The king looked at his son, sadness in his eyes.

"To keep Carthya safe, you will never see your brother again."

Darius let the words sink into him, along with the suspician they implied. "You mean, the time he'd be needed, would be if we were... killed?"

The king bowed his head. "I do not know how much I can trust my regeants," he confided. "They have become power-hungry, and I fear very much for the kingdom should any of them ever fully gain controle."

Darius bit his lip, much as his younger brother did when he was nervous. "I take it I cannot tell mother this?"

"No," Eckbert said. "She would not approve, and there is no point in worrying her."

Darius nodded, and retired to his chambers. When he was there, he collapsed on the bed and cryed himself to sleep. He cried for the brother he would never see again, Jaron. The boy who may as well be dead, unless he himself was. And somehow, no matter how selfish and cowardly it was, he found himself crying that he didn't want to die.


End file.
